Seconds
by Cassima
Summary: Takes place during Sailor Moon R. Sailor Mercury must be the bearer of bad news...


30 Seconds 30 Seconds By[Cassima][1]

RATING: PG-13 or 14; language.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Sailor Moon! I'm not getting paid for this (rats! I wish I were!). I don't want to bomb DIC for taking it off the air (and all that hate mail--that wasn't my fault. You didn't hear about it from me). Don't sue me! Yep, that's 'bout it.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Uh, the mood in this is depressing, so please don't kill yourself. Thanks. :-(

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"You can't leave! All the plants are gonna die!"

--Album in the Afternoon's signoff.

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I am weak. I admit that. I stand, outside his building, tears streaming down my sodden cheeks, my voice gone from the harsh sobbings I have already put myself through.

She's gone.

I must cope.

First, though, I have to tell _him_.

I stare at the building. It's tall. So very tall... it pains me to have to do this. I'm weak though; that's why the task was left up to me.

Slowly, I open the doors. They're heavy, so very damn heavy against my trembling arms. All my muscles are trembling.

She is, after all, dead.

I stare at the stairs. They've never bothered me before. There's so... so fucking many, though. It tears me up inside. A wisp of my hair falls into my eyes, but I brush it back nervously.

There will be time enough to hide behind my hair after I bear the bad news.

Perhaps he'll kill me.

That will be welcome. A welcome ending to the deep, twisting ache that fills the pit of my stomach, crawling up my ribs like a stepladder, painting my innerds black.

Black as coal.

Black as ice. 

Black as my heart.

My damnable heart.

_Luna tried to prepare you,_ I remind myself as I wait for the elevator, _but you wouldn't listen. No, you would have nothing of it. You wouldn't listen to the poor cats, their hearts ripped out and displayed before them._

Displayed right next to yours.

I take the stairs.

It's good for me to consentrate on something other than the past events. Good for me to force my energy into a menial task like stair climbing. Good for the tears that never cease to caress my face.

I can almost see my mother's look when I walk in the door. From anger at my tardiness ("Dinner was hours ago!) to relief at my being home ("Where have you been?!?"), to concern ("What's wrong? You look like your best friend just died!").

She did, Mom. She did.

I'm at his floor, puffing for breath and crying again.

Because of his heart's stone walls.

I wish I were more like him.

I find his apartment door and knock. My knuckles are raw, but I pound harder. "Open the damn door!"

I've been swearing a lot lately.

He throws open the door, anger displayed on his face like one of those paintings by those crazy street artists, scraping to make a living from the traces of dignity left in the bowl of life.

Sorry, darling. I'm currently immune.

His face stares at mine, the tears hitting him hard in the gut. He gasps, as if I had struck intentionally.

"I don't want a lecture, dammit," he bites out. "I'm not in the mood."

I pant, the tears still flowing bitterly from my swollen eyes. "We need to talk."

Something in my tone, in the dull blueness of my unsparkling eyes catches him, makes him drop his gaurd.

Don't drop it. You may have killed her, but I don't wish this pain on anyone.

Not even you.

I push past him and collapse on his couch. Somehow, my control comes back, and I stop crying. "Sit down."

"What is it?" he askes sarcastically, hiding his fear of me and what I know.

'Run away!' I want to scream. 'Run away, don't look back!'

I don't. I breathe. In... out... in... out... 

Very calmly, I reply to his heartening query. "Usagi... Usagi is dead."

Beat.

He is silent. 

"There was a monster..."

Beat.

"Mako-chan... she... she killed it..."

Beat.

"But... but it was too late..." I break down again. "Too damn late..."

He falls into a chair kitty-corner me, blue eyes glazed over, mouth half-open.

No, it's not easy. My hunched shoulders shake miserably with my contained sobs. 

"Oh..." he whispers, stricken. "Oh, Ami... how could you? How could you not save her? How could you let my princess die?"

"Me?" I explode, suddenly, unexplicably angry, "Me?!? I'm not her damn prince! I didn't tear her heart out, shred it, and stuff it back down her throat! I was there for her, you bastard! I was... there..." I start to cry again, collapsing onto the floor.

"It only took half a minute to drain all her energy," I inform him, taking the worn trinket out of my pocket and caressing the shattered front. "30 seconds. A lifetime."

Beat.

"When will it end? Your pig-headedness, your stubborn pretend shitty excuses... she had to die for you to see?" I cover my face with my hands, huddled on the floor, crouched on my knees. "Fuck you." There is no anger in my tone, only pity.

He is not responding. I look up, up into the cold, blue-steel eyes of his.

Those damn, non-blinking, blue-steel eyes.

And I know it's too late to feel pity. It's too late to feel anger. It's too late to feel grief.

It's too damn late for the Earth Prince.

I can't help the dead, I can only blow crappy bubbles.

Mom says you can't die of a broken heart.

I guess the Black Moon youma towering over me would agree.

I clutch the battered object in my hand, the broken gem I cried over for the last five minutes, the last thing Chiba Mamoru ever saw.

My anger is great as the tattered brooch fastens itself to my chest. 

It's all the same to it who it serves; one scout's as good as another. It latches onto my energy, fixing itself, drawing on me for help, like some parasite.

It's right, though.

I will serve the crystal.

I will serve the kingdom.

I will carry on for my princess and prince.

Both of them damn dead.

Like the monster.

I sob.

Beat.

So, uh, how'd you like my first attempt at a Sailor Moon fanific? Yeah, I know, depressing... I was actually in a good mood when I wrote this... well, comments, question, etc get mailed to [black_cassima@hotmail.com][1]. Thanks!

Oh, yeah, and if you can't tell, this is a "What if" timeline that takes place during Sailor Moon R. Basically, Usagi has died. The scouts have stuck a grief-stricken Ami with the pleasant task of telling Mamoru about her death. Kind of them, hum? He is killed by a Negamoon monster that somehow shows up in his apartment. The Imperium Silver Crystal fixes itself and Ami uses it to kill the monster with her bubbles. She's still not a happy camper at the end, though.

Everything clarified now? Good.

Flames are welcome; Dogfood expensive.

[Oh my goodness! Go to the awful sequel!][2]

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   [1]: mailto:black_cassima@hotmail.com
   [2]: 30secrep.htm
   [3]: index.htm



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